


Don't Poke the Koopa

by laurelofthestory



Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Super Paper Mario (Game)
Genre: Banter, Crack, Fire, Gen, Humor, Sarcasm, Silly, unwanted flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-09-30 04:45:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelofthestory/pseuds/laurelofthestory
Summary: Guys like this didn’t know when to quit. Bowser should know, as he was most certainly one of them.Unfortunately, it's the people who are most like you that tend to piss you off the most.





	Don't Poke the Koopa

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't post this back when I wrote it while attempting Inktober prompts because I guess I didn't think it was good enough, but now I'm trying to post all my work. I don't really write a lot of humor, so it was strange to write such unabashed goofiness. Just a silly little Chapter 4-4 alternate scenario; both a literal and figurative roast!
> 
> Figures the last SPM fic I posted had L acting surprisingly wholesome because the brainwashing was wearing off. Most of the time, he's like _this._

Guys like this didn’t know when to quit. Bowser should know, as he was most _certainly_ one of them.

Not that said Koopa King was anywhere near self-aware enough to realize this, of course. All he knew was that he was tired, hungry, his stomach had gone all funny from floating through space for several hours followed by the ever-changing gravity of the Whoa Zone, and this new bozo of Count Bleck’s was just the icing on the proverbial cake ( _man,_ could he go for some cake right now). He’d shown up out of nowhere and kicked their weird little alien companion to the curb, taunting them and posing like a complete moron. Who did he think he was? Besides, between the hat, the mustache, and the accent, it looked like he was trying to jack Mario’s style--just how big of a tryhard _was_ this guy?

This mysterious “Mr. L” flirting with _Princess Peach,_ however, was the last straw.

It definitely seemed like no one else was going to do anything about him--Peach was flustered and offended, Mario had spent the whole encounter looking as if he were two seconds away from getting hit by a bus, and Tippi...well, Tippi was a tough read, but Bowser figured she was going to be about as helpful as she usually was. Which, in his opinion, was zero. 

“HEY!”

Mr. L stopped midsentence and looked up at Bowser, hands drifting to clasp lazily behind his back. (His eyes were cloudy and didn’t quite focus on anything, as if he were sleepwalking, not that Bowser noticed.)

“Oh,” L replied, dryly, “Almost missed you, you were so insignificant. Can you go _back_ to being insignificant? We were having a conversation.”

Bowser tromped forward, bodily shoving Mario out of his way with one arm and nearly sending the plumber to the floor. A fire was already burning in his gut, and it _definitely_ wasn’t indigestion, this time. “You back off my _wife!_ ”

Peach took a step away from the confrontation, crossing her arms in front of her, lips pressed into a thin line. “We’ve been over this. We are not, nor have we ever been, _actually_ married.”

“You heard her!” L gave a huge smirk. “Hey, why would she want to date _you_ , anyway? The _king of guys who talk to posters?_ ”

Bowser was taken aback. “H-hey! How’d you know about that?!”

L blinked a couple of times, glancing off to one side, apparently puzzled, before collecting himself, “...Because I’m just that good, obviously!”

“Yeah, well, I’m the king of _guys who’re gonna burn you to a crisp,_ chump!”

“Get real, why would the princess wanna date a big, dumb king of _losers_? She’s clearly only interested in the most _handsome_ and _accomplished_ of people.” L puffed out his chest as if this somehow proved his point. Behind the two of them, Mario and Peach glanced at each other with equal looks of exasperation, but said nothing.

“Oh, yeah, says the guy with the caterpillar on his lip. Even _Mario’s_ ‘stache is better than yours!”

L gasped, a hand rising to his face. “You take that _back!_ ”

“And speaking of Mario, what’s your deal with copying his style, huh? _Please._ Just how _desperate_ do you have to be to try and copy _him?_ ”

L growled, fists clenching at his sides as he stomped his foot. “I am _not_ copying him! We look _nothing_ alike!"

“Actually…” Tippi piped up from off to the side, “You sort of...do. Quite a bit.”

Peach put a hand to her chin. “In fact, you remind me a lot of--”

“ _He_ must be the one copying _me!_ ” L held up a fist in the air triumphantly, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “Oho! So even the _great hero of light_ has heard of me! I get it now, you’re just _trying_ to be as cool as me. Well, I admire your effort, but didn’t you know red is just tacky? Green is where it’s at. And _I’m_ the _Green Thunder!”_ L twirled in place and struck another pose, before aggressively pointing at Mario. “You can’t match up! I almost pity you, _doomed_ to forever live in my shadow. Well. For as long as you live, anyway. Which isn’t gonna be much longer! The Count wants you gone, so you’ve got to go.”

“As if you could _beat_ him,” Bowser replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry. _How_ many times has he stormed your lair, rescued the princess, and beaten you to a pulp?”

“GUH!”  Now Bowser was the one stomping his foot, causing L to throw back his head in a mean-spirited cackle.  “Now listen here, you little--”

“Don’t worry. It’s okay to be jealous.” L dropped into a fighting stance, his everpresent smirk returning. “Maybe I’ll give _you_ the honor of going first! Ooh, a big, strong, Koopa King. Do I look scared? _Have at_ \--”

Nope. Bowser had had enough. It had been a _long_ week since the wedding, he’d had a _blazing_ headache during _all_ of it, and he was _not_ ready to put up with any more of this twerp.

And so, before L could even finish his catchphrase, Bowser reared up, threw back his head, and roasted him with firey breath.

The scream from L was a lot more high pitched and satisfying (and familiar) than he’d expected. Bowser looked to see L now hopping around in a circle trying to put out the flames that had caught on his jumpsuit, all the while screeching out what sounded like a long, rapid-fire string of “ow”’s.

After beating out his smoldering bandana, L shot a glare Bowser’s way and jumped back a few steps, reaching into a pouch on his belt and pulling out a Shroom Shake. Bowser simply walked forward and opened fire again before L could open the can. After a couple seconds in the stream of flames, the can exploded with a loud _pop,_ spraying Shroom Shake all over L, the floor, and the nearest wall of the Whoa Zone.

Bowser laughed, the other heroes completely forgotten. This was _just_ what he’d needed for all of that aggression! L, meanwhile, was shaking in fury as he wiped the remains of the shake off of his mask.

To his credit, L still tried to save face, standing up straight and pointing directly at Bowser. Though his attempt to still look intimidating was somewhat undercut by the ten different directions his mustache was pointing, the singe marks on his cap, and the cough that came with his challenge.

“H--have at you!”

Bowser was _more_ than happy to oblige.


End file.
